(I work at an ice-cream stand. A herd of small children come up to the counter. None are older than eight years old.)

Child: “Umm, miss, how much is that?”

Me: “How much is the cone? Or how much is one scoop on the cone?”

Child: “How much is the cone?”

Me: “Well, this cone is technically free. If you get one scoop on the sugar cone, then you only pay for the scoop of ice-cream.”

Child: “Okay, one sec.”

(All the children giggle, then run to a woman nearby. They chat for a bit, and then they run back.)

Child: “How much for the sugar cone?”

(I tell them, and they again run back to the woman standing nearby. They repeat this charade a few more times by asking the exact same questions, until they all finally order. Each one of them orders one scoop of ice-cream on the sugar cone. Their total comes out to about $30.The woman nearby later comes up and cuts in front of six customers.)

Woman: “Can I see a receipt for my order?”

Me: “Sorry, your kids paid in cash, and didn’t want the receipt; I threw it away.”

Woman: “Okay, well my kids told me that you told them that one scoop on a sugar cone was free. They all got one scoop on a sugar cone. WHY DID THAT COST $30?!”

Me: “I told them that the cone was free, but the scoop itself was [price].”

Woman: “That’s not what they told me.”

Me: “I’m sorry; I did tell them that.”

Woman: “Wow. You must be the biggest idiot if you cannot convey the price of ice-cream to children!”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am.”

(She stands there glaring at me. The next two customers are a couple of guys, who then come up to the register to pay for their order.)

Guy #1: “Who the h*** hands their kid a 50, and sends them up to an ice-cream stand?”

(The woman hears him, and stares at him with her jaw dropped.)

Guy #2:*mocking the woman* “Where is my receipt?! Why are you so dumb?! Why did I have children?!”

Customer: “I purchased this laptop two months ago, and you guys installed antivirus on here. Now I have a virus on my computer. I barely use it and rarely even go on the internet, so obviously they’re defective. I want a refund.”

Me: “I’ll be happy to help, ma’am. Would you mind if I run our free in-store diagnostic test, just to make sure that it is a virus?”

Customer: “Fine, but it’ll be a waste of time; this shouldn’t have happened and—”

(The customer continues ranting about how inept our technology items are. Meanwhile, I am running our diagnostic, and even superficially I can tell that it has a virus infection. Curious, I also quickly pull open the program list. I notice something interesting.)

Me: “Ma’am, do you know what [software name] is?”

Customer: “Uh, no…”

Me: “It’s a peer-to-peer sharing program. It’s one of the ways that people can illegally download music, movies, and the like. It’s also a very common way to get viruses, since anyone can upload anything to the P2P network.”

Customer: “But I would never do anything like that.”

Me: “Ma’am, does anyone else use your computer?”

(The customer’s face suddenly drops.)

Customer: “My daughter…”

Me: “Does she have her own account with parental controls, or do you let her use your account?”

Customer: “She uses mine.”

Me: “Well, most likely she’s been using it to download files, and that’s how you got the virus.”

Me: “Antiviruses aren’t magic walls, ma’am. If you allow viruses to get past the protocols, which this would, viruses can get through. Normally, the software should issue a warning, but most likely your daughter ignored that when she downloaded the files.”

Customer: “Oh… Well, how much is this going to cost me to fix?”

(I give her the quote, which she dutifully pays. As I hand her the receipt, she mentions one last thing.)

Customer: “When I get home, that girl is going to be grounded so hard! That money is coming out of her bank account!”

(I have just gotten off of work, and am enjoying my meal as I wait for my ride home to finish their shift. I get a call in the break room from the customer service clerk; he seems a bit flustered.)

Customer Service Clerk: “Are you okay to clock back in for an emergency sale to a hostile customer?”

Me: “I’ll be right up.”

(I put my uniform back on, and clock in. I go to the main desk.)

Customer: “About f****** time someone helped me properly!”

Me: “I’m sorry for any confusion or undue hassle, sir. What can I help you with?”

Customer: “My f****** truck won’t start, and I think it’s the battery. The lights don’t even come on, and I sure as h*** don’t want to be stranded in this f****** place’s parking lot! Get me a new battery!”

(I lead him back towards my department to get the proper car battery for him.)

Me: “Can I ask for the year, make, and model of your vehicle?”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “It is our usual policy to find the exact battery.”

(He gets into more of a huff. We find the right battery and I ask for his info to do up the proper paperwork.)

Customer: “What the h*** do you need all this for, anyway?”

Me: “Well, we just need to make sure we take care of our customers properly. When it comes to vehicle maintenance, we take it seriously, so we don’t end up messing things up and making you have to deal with more trouble.”

(He gets huffy again, but I take down the required info.)

Customer: “Well, that’s over. Oh, wait… d*** it!”

Me: “What’s wrong, sir?”

Customer: “I don’t have any tools to take out the old battery and stuff!”

Me: “Well, hang on for another moment, and I can go get them. Then I will take your old battery out, and replace it with the new one. That way you can get out of here, and back home to do what you planned on doing.”

(He narrows his eyes at me, but nods and waits for me at the desk. I go get the tools, and come back so he can lead me out to his vehicle. I do just as I said I would. I even wish him a good evening after all is said and done. The next day he comes back in. I see him making his way back to my department while I’m still working. He’s smiling somewhat sheepishly.)

Me: “Hello again, sir! Is everything okay?”

Customer: “Yeah, everything’s great! Heck, the truck runs a bit better now, too. It’s been years since I had to change the battery. I just wanted to apologize for how angry I was last night, and for how I treated you.”

Me: “Well, it’s no big deal, sir. I can imagine you’d had enough hassle form the situation.”

Customer: “Yeah, you got that right. Look, I think you’re an outstanding young man, and I want to thank you for helping me out in a pinch.”

(He shakes my hand, but I notice the feeling of paper also being handed to me in the handshake. I look down in my hand and see a $20 bill.)